


Tumblr oneshots

by clintbartonawarrows



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Daredevil (TV), Doctor Strange (2016), Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Almost smut, Angst and Feels, Chinese New Year, Coffee, Domestic Avengers, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Getting Together, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, I'm Sorry, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Infinity Wars, M/M, One Shot, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Showers, Strike Team Delta, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Wedding, au's, happy Bucky, mentions of abuse, past mentions of child abuse, plantonic clintasha, romantic clintasha, thor can't cook
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-12
Updated: 2019-02-18
Packaged: 2019-09-16 17:44:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 7,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16958613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clintbartonawarrows/pseuds/clintbartonawarrows
Summary: Just a collection of requests from my Tumblr for the big wide world to enjoy.





	1. Matt/Clint-Coffee

Clint by no means was the ideal boyfriend. Or good at spy stuff… despite how much it pained him to admit Bobbi was right. Sure he could sit up on a rooftop and hit targets. Maim not kill. Never ever kill that wasn’t him. Hell, he ended his marriage with Bobbi over that. All that aside he needed coffee now. Or rather two hours ago. His bones ached from the cold his hair stuck to his scalp dripping river water into his eyes like artificial tears. He was just supposed to be doing recon for SHIELD. Nothing hard or dangerous. (By SHIELD standards that is.) But Clint being the walking human disaster he is somehow managed to get into a fight and tossed in the Hudson River. Oh, how Matt was going to love the smell off him. Clint's hands were jammed in his pockets not that that would help as he was thoroughly soaked inside and out...Wait no that didn’t sound right. Anyway moving on. He needed coffee. Yes, Coffee then maybe a kiss and dry clothes in that order exclusively. Clint wandered up the stairs of Matt’s apartment building. He had basically been on autopilot since he hit Hell’s Kitchen. Clint opened the door not bothering to knock or announce his presences. Clint knew well enough that Matt would know the instant he was outside the building. Clint toed his shoes off with a wet squelching sound and dropped his well-worn socks on them. His bow case sitting neatly against the wall his quiver leaning against it steadily. “Hey.” Clint greeted to potentially an empty apartment. Once Clint out the hall into the living area he paused and looked around. Nothing. Matt would be back later. Clint was sure of it. Just like he was sure there would be coffee in the fourth cupboard on the left bottom shelf behind the crackers. Sighing contently as the coffee began to brew dripping steadily into the pot. Clint slumped back against the counter fingers drumming absently on his thighs. He really loved Matt a lot...But Clint thought that frequently enough. Maybe just maybe he could see how Matt felt, or he would just jump in head first as usual and it would either work or fail entirely. Not bothering to get a mug from the second shelf above the coffee pot he picked up the steaming pot in his right hand and took a gulp. Clint’s face contorting as the hot liquid burned his tongue. “Aww Coffee why.” He grumbled words coming out mangled as Clint spoke them with his tongue poking out of his mouth. Clint paused long enough to peel out of his wet clothes dropping them off to the side before pulling on the discarded boxers left on the chair from last night and dropped on to the couch taking up the pot again drinking it thoughtfully. Close to an hour later Matt entered the apartment. “You smell like literal garbage.” He greeted while walking to the sofa. “Aw, gee love you too.” Clint snorted which was meant by a cuff upside the head a pause and then a kiss. Clint smiled slightly and dragged Matt down onto the couch kissing him tenderly. “SO I was thinking.” Clint started only it was his turn to cuff Matt upside the head when he made a comment about smelling burnt rubber. “I was thinking we should get married. It’s not like it can get much worse than me shooting you in the ass or having to fish me from dumpsters.” Clint said hesitantly his heart hammering against his chest as he anticipated Matts response. Clint's eyes moved from Matts' face to his hands. Clint's eyebrows matted together as he watched the others hands sign out words. It wasn’t what Clint was expecting. Not even close. “Duck anus? What the hell is that supposed to mean?” He asked tilting his head to the side. “It means go shower,” Matt stated smoothly. That really wasn’t what he intended to say. He smiled and spoke once more. “Because things can only get better.” He said with a smirk as Clint launched off the couch Coffee pot half empty and forgotten on the table. The coffee could wait until morning.


	2. Thor/Strange- Blanket, Abandoned

Making the bed was a relatively mundane task compared to battle. Much was when Thor thought about it. He wanted to do something nice for Stephen and well doing the laundry and changing the bed seemed trivial and Thor agreed, but he couldn’t cook and suspected the Doctor would not see the kitchen exploding as an attempt to further woo him in their relationship. The sound of the doors of the compound swinging shut woke Thor from his thoughts. Abandoning the blankets half made on the bed he made his way through the winding halls until he found Stephen half ways up the main staircase. “How are things?” He asked curiously a large hand coming up to brush over his short hair. Watching as the other continued up the stairs seemingly lost in thought. So not good. Thor deducted and moved to meet him at the top of the stairs a large arm looping around Stephens waste and easily turning him away from the study. “No. You’ll work your self-ragged. The solution will come to you. Magic just doesn’t break.” That Thor knew for a fact and directed his boyfriend in the direction of the bathroom. “I know it doesn’t just break. Nothing just breaks there's always an explanation.” Stephen said matter of factly a biting edge to his voice as he spoke. Thor paid no attention to the tone or the sass. In many ways, Stephen reminded him of Loki. Nudging the bathroom door shut with the heel of his boot Thor went to find towels and the correct soaps. Allowing Stephen a moment longer to brood. Once Thor returned he was mildly relieved to see that Stephen had decided he would shower without much argument. Though he still dawned a brooding expression. “Well, are you going to join me?” Stephen more light-hearted than before. The corners of Thor's mouth twitched into a smile. “Absolutely.” He said without a second thought began to undress taking the soaps with him into the shower delicately placing them on the shelves his smile growing as Stephen placed several kisses to his shoulder a hand coming to rest on his lower back. Once Thor stood upright again he turned and gently cupped the others face in one hand sweetly kissing the lips of the other parting before things could get out of hand. “Let me wash your back dear.” Thor prompted while blindly reaching for the soap with a small huff Stephen reluctantly turned under the warm stream of water wetting himself down before stepping back allowing thor the room to wash his back. Just as Thor was turning around Stephen was out of the shower already wrapping in a towel. “I have to go back to Kamatage. The book I need is there.” Stephen barely elaborated as he exited the bathroom. Abandoning Thor just as he abandoned the blankets earlier. Maybe he would try to cook dinner tonight after all.


	3. Blackbird Song fic-Bucky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So basically this is done up as entireties into one of Bucky's, notebooks starting post HYDRA.

Black Bird -The Beatles 

Blackbird singing in the dead of night, take these broken wings and learn to fly

Week One: The assets purpose no longer existed. There were no men pulling his strings anymore he was ‘free.’ But freedom left a bitter taste in the assets mouth, He had been robbed of all humility of this person…’Bucky’ he used to be. The Asset is just a machine who was supposed to do work to better mankind. Now without that who was he? What was he? 

All your life, you were only waiting for this moment to arise

Week Three: Maybe HYDRA had forgotten him? No that made no sense he was too much of a danger they were just lulling him into a false sense of security. That had to be it. The asset ran his hands over his face exhaling heavily. Slouched against the wall mold heavy in the air. He could live like this right? He didn’t need to remember or have a home. The asset was able to survive this way. It was better than where he came from. Not Pefert, just better. What even was Perfect? The man with the blue eyes was pretty close he thought, but that was a lifetime ago at least. 

Blackbird singing in the dead of night, take these sunken eyes and learn to see

One Month: Sitting bolt upright so fast the world needed to catch up the Asset scanning the room for any threat chest rising and falling rapidly heavy puff of breath breaking the silence. His right-hand dipping below the collar of his shirt tracing the dead spot where Skin meant metal. They saved him after he fell. The asset wished they let him die after the fall. He cheated death. Nothing good would come of that. They cursed him. Rising to his feet the asset crossed the small room retrieving his journal from it’s hiding spot. Gingerly he leafed through the pages and made several small points.   
Cyclone? (Pay Back?)  
Fell off a train  
Steve again? 

All your life, you were only waiting for this moment to be free

 

Two Years: He was Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes people called him Bucky. Mainly Steve. His best friend. He was unmarried with no children. Thankfully. This had to be why Steve was looking for him. But he couldn’t find him it would be too dangerous. Even if James vaguely remember who he was. The Asset was still locked in there somewhere. 

Blackbird singing in the dead of night, take these broken wings and learn to fly

Five years: Steve?


	4. Clintasha-Tradition Laugh

Clint snorted as he walked. “This has got to be the stupidest idea we’ve come up with..like ever. I don’t think I’d even think of this Tasha.” Stopping a little too late and knocking into someone in front of him. “Aw sorry man,” He said hastily and looked at Natasha who was also waiting. Second, later they were crawling forward. “At this pace, we’re gonna get caught and Coulson’s gonna have to bail our asses out and then there’s gonna be even more paperwork.” He grumbled under his breath knowing full well Natasha could hear him over the heavy thrumming of the music. Natasha merely rolled her eyes. “It’s tradition and unavoidable Clint.” She spoke softly and turned a corner eyes still on Clint. “Your ass looks good in those.” She spoke with a light smirk flitting across her lips to keep a smile at bay. Clint snorted and rolled his eyes. “Yeah right. You just like red. Don’t objectify me.” Clint said sarcastically as his signature lopsided grin spread over his lips. “HQ is gonna get a kick outta this.” He chuckled and slowed to a stop and crouched down like the others hoping they would blend easily. Clint had no doubt that from the waist down they blended in with everyone else, but it was above the wast that worried him. Standing back up Clint began to walk again. “How much further until HQ?” Clint asked and tilted his head to the side and began to speed up. “Oh sure now we speed up when there’s no real pressing danger.” He commented sarcastically a smile spreading across his lips when Natasha laughed. “We gotta get out of this damn head without drawing too much attention to our selves,” Clint commented and pushed up on the pole that was attached to the dragons head. Their mission kind of worked? It wasn’t a failure and they got what they needed, but because of a poorly designed fire exit, they had pissed off bad guys after them. Which landed them in Bright red Pants carrying the head of a Dragon float for Chinese New Year. Clint watched Natasha for some kind of physical queue as they would have to exit on her side. The next time they bowed down Natasha swiftly rolled out and was gone. Clint quickly followed suit ducking into the SHIELD building and out of sight before anyone could really ask any questions. Once the two of them were shut in an elevator shuttling them up to the third floor and Coulson’s office they broke down into a fit of laughter slumped against the wall. “I’m pretty sure there’s some kind of rule against using Parade floats and Cultural traditions as an escape vessel,” Clint said a little breathily and leaned over to give Natasha a gentle kiss. “Your ass looks good in those pants.”


	5. Clintasha-Target

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW Past mentions of abuse.

Clint paced a couple more circles into the floor before he made his discussion. This was the best option for now then he'd move. It wasn't much. A small hunting cabin away from everyone and anything. Cellular dead a pot even as an added bonus. Starting at the front of the building he began to rearrange the furniture to block eyelines and points of entry while still leaving him with a good vantage point. Once the building was secured to his satisfaction Clint grabbed his rucksack and dragged it back to the bedroom dropping down to the floor at the foot of the bed. Not having it in him to disturb Lucky who was sprawled across the bed sleeping soundly. The corner was small away from everything. It brought a sense of security like when he would hide from his father and the drunken rages. Absently for a second Clint drug the pad of his left thumb up the scar the ran vertically up his palm. Pressing ever so lightly on the tip of the scar before grabbing the bottle of whiskey from his bag and opened it taking a couple long swigs. His mind drifted back to years ago. When he had been the target. Funny how things could change so fast when morals were in question. There was a time when Clint would have considered Buck a friend...His first friend even. (If you don’t count Barney.) But that didn’t matter right now he needed time to think. Before he told HQ why Trickshot wasn’t dead. And argued again that it wasn’t personal. Clint took several more long swigs to wash the memories of the carnival and the Swordsman away. Setting it aside and turned his attention down to his torso where most of the injuries had collected. This was going to be a long couple of days. Lucky's movement off the bed and to the back door without a bark meaning it was someone he knew broke Clint's train of thought. “Awe Lucky come on.” Clint sighed and heaved himself from the floor expecting any company. Clint slumped against the wall in the hall and watching the door “I'm fine. The mission was a mess but I'm fine. Don't need a babysitter.” He said bitterly and yet he opened it. Natasha was there arms folded relaxed over her chest meaning she wasn’t mad. Likely concerned. “If you say so.” She said simply and let her self into the cabin. “The targets in SHIELD custody.” She informed while greeting Lucky. Clint shut the door and turned around to look at her. “You were sent to oversee the mission weren’t you?” Sounded like something SHIELD would do if they doubted Clint to actually carry out the mission. “You coming home or are you going to be my next mark?” Natasha questioned looking over at Clint incredulously. Staying quiet for a moment to dissect the answer she had given him. She was sent to oversee the mission and was here off the books. SHIELD is expecting him to go MIA. Clint’s answer was easy. “Help me put the furniture back.” When was he one to ever do what was expected of him anyway?


	6. Clintasha-Sun, Water, Dare

You knew it was hot when super soldiers and gods complained. And man was it was hot. No doubt about it. Even the ocean felt warm over the regular welcoming cool escape from the Sun’s ongoing assault. Clint was beginning to think that it wasn’t aliens or murder bots that were going to wipe them out. It was the sun they were simply going to melt into a pulled of sweat and evaporate into nothing. Simple as that. It was also amazing what the others spoke about in front of him when they thought he didn’t have his hearing aids in. today was a prime example of that. Most of the team was in the common area of the Tower the AC struggling to keep up with the heat wave. It was an ongoing topic of discussion between Tony and Rhodey of who Natasha was dating because clearly, she was they just didn’t know who, and apparently that mattered A LOT. It was mildly amusing because Clint knew who it was very, very, very well. Since it was well him. Which left Clint feeling more than a little smug as he listened to the great debate on the couch adjacent to him. This apparently did not go unnoticed by Tony who turned to Clint his eyes twinkling slightly with what was probably a plan to solve the enigma that was Nat’s love life. Once Tony was sure Clint was either lip reading or actually listening. “Dare you to tell us who Nat’s dating.” He said casually causing Clint to laugh to himself. “And risk Nat’s wrath?” Clint asked and shook his head. “Not likely.” He stated simply and shrugged heavily turn his attention to when the doors opened and Natasha entered the room glancing at Tony and Rhodey briefly then holding eye contact with Clint a little longer and Clint offered up his signature lopsided grin and shrugged which was meant with a slight nod and it was broken. Natasha continues on to the kitchen Water bottle in hand hips swaying slightly as she walked. Clint thought over his next moves carefully before climbing over the back of the couch and walked to the kitchen to get himself a glass of water as well. Clint was raising the glass to his lips when He found himself backed against the counter and Natasha’s lips on his. The glass dropped from his hand as they came to rest on her hips as he kissed back. “You owe me Twenty dollars,” Tony said victoriously. Clint was surprised that Natasha flipped them off or that Their feet were soaked. What surprised him was the water spontaneously pouring from the fridge as it crapped out quite spectacularly.


	7. Clintasha-Biblical

Eloping was probably the best decision Natasha and Clint made as a pair in the past two months. Sure people were going to have questions where they dropped off to for four days, but neither she or Clint really cared. For the time being Natasha was perfectly content leaning into Clint’s side watching as more and more stars fill the sky. The ocean slowly creeping up on them as the tide rose they hadn’t said anything in hours. They were just soaking in each others company and the tingling warmth of their bare skin against each other and the light wool blanket secured around them like a shield from the elements. That very same blanket hadn’t done much in the way of shielding Natasha from getting sand everywhere. Literally. “I love you, Tasha,” Clint mumbled into her ear fingers gently pinging her damp curls bringing a smile to her lips. “I love you too Clint.” She said softly and leaned up gently kissing Clint. Swiftly sliding into Clint’s laps hands resting on his strong shoulders. “You know we could just stay here and retire young..” Clint mused as his hands came to rest on her hips. The blanket dropping to the sand spilling the last of the vodka into the sand. Neither of them needed more anyway. “You’d get bored and we’d drive each other insane.” She mused and pressed a couple kisses along the expanse of Clint's neck. “You really think so?” He hummed and tilted his head to the side to give Natasha more access. “Mmmhm. I thought you wanted a farm with a couple goats and some chickens and a cow? Lucky of course.” Natasha commented sucking a couple more marks into his neck before kissing down to Clint’s shoulder and across his chest slowly. Clint's breath caught and he nodded. “Yeah want that to...There’s a lot I want with you Tasha...a lot a lot.” Clint said softly and brushed his fingers through her hair once more before trailing his fingers down her spine. “You’re like some deadly arch angle… know that?” Clint complimented once more. He had been excessively affectionate for the past eight hours or so. People said marriage changes you but she wasn’t expecting it to happen so fast. “Lucifer was an arch angle.” Natasha pointed out but they didn’t get to finish that conversation as Clint had become a little preoccupied with something a lot less biblical.


	8. Clintasha-Sanctuary, Past, Scream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW: Loss of a loved one, Past abuse

The past has a way of tainting the present seeping in through the cracks of the walls Clint worked so hard at building up. But none of that mattered it seemed. It oozes through like hot butter running over popcorn. Oily and conniving. And he H A T E D it. It didn't matter how much coffee he drank or how often Clint told himself he was above sleep. Sleep was for the weak. It always snuck up and one won. An unfair advantage if you asked Clint. Clint didn't remember falling asleep the last thing he remembered was pulling his shirt off while sitting on the edge of his bed. Dead tired after a mission in Northern Scotland with Natasha. The mission its self-went well it was the not falling asleep once it was over that was the hard part. But as always sleep one and Clint was passed out half on the bed his shirt still wrapped around his left arm. Pants undone and boot’s still laced up. At first, it was a deep sleep no dreams to plague his subconscious. But soon enough that changed the dark fog twisting into tents and cages. Oil paint and diesel heavy in the air. Overpowering the popcorn and candy that could have been pleasant smells if you hadn’t lived the life Clint lived. Slowly Carsons Carnival of Traveling Wonders took form. Just as bright and grimy as the day he and Barney arrived. Clint shuddered as the memory progressed. Shouts and whip cracks sounding from the right. An argument permeating from the tent on his imidate left. Barney and Carson...Barney would be leaving the next morning for the army...Clint would try to follow but he would be too late. That would be the last time he saw Barney for years…Just like that, the scene changed. Everything got darker and colder. Clint's stomach knotted. He didn’t want to be here. He couldn’t handle watching this unfold...again. Clint’s body was operating on its own accord. “No.” He mumbled shifting. “Stop that.” He yelled at his arm trying to stop it from cocking his bow. Clint shuttered and crunched up hoping that would prevent the events from happening. Tears soaked his cheeks as the arrow was released. A scream raked through his chest right hand gripping his shoulder moments. Later thick blood seeping between his fingers and pain spazamed through him. Barney..Barney, he needed to help him. It was HIS. fault. Clint was the one that shot him...maiming him. It was all Clints fault because he was late. A shout and a shove when he felt hands on him. Dainty cold ones...Natasha. Chest heaving as he opened his eyes and recoiled away from her wrapping up in his arms. “Hey, Tasha...What's shaking?” Clint asked hoping to play it cool. But that rarely worked. Especially with Tasha. Being an ex-super Russian spy. “Clint you were yelling in your sleep…” She stated gently and slowly eased up the bed gently peeling his shirt the rest of the way off. Her fingers gently skimming along the ridges of his muscles. The gentile touches giving Clint something else to focus on over the quaking in his muscles. “It’s fine Tasha...really it was nothing.” He said a little begrudgingly of himself. Natasha shook her head. “I don’t believe you, but fine.” She said simply before dragging Clint into a firm embrace. Initially, Clint tensed before slowly allowing himself to seek out that little piece of sanctuary buried deep in Natasha’s embrace. “I hate sleep.” He mumbles words muffled against her collarbone. “I know.” She said softly and kissed his hair. The room going silent.


	9. Clintasha-Hand, Eyes

It’s funny. Whenever you’re on the brink of losing someone all the stuff you hated about them turns into the things you love the most. Or at least it seemed funny to Clint, but he was also aware that it was an all too common feeling when you’re watching your better half fight for her life in a med bay. The doors slid open with a deafening swoosh. Every sound felt amplified. All Clint wanted to do was wrench his hearing aids out and add them to the pyre he was constructing to prove that his love for Natasha was strong enough to pull her back from the brink. Greatfuly Clint accepted the coffee in his right hand. Left still laced with Natasha’s. “I’d tell you to go get some sleep. But I know you barely sleep, to begin with.” Phil said gently and sat down beside Clint. Clint said nothing as he took a sip from his coffee slowly. His thumb absently running over the thin barely visible scar that arched across the back of her hand. “She’s got the softest eye’s when she isn’t working boss,” Clint said softly to take his attention from Natasha’s too slow heartbeat. “There’s The Black Widow...Then there’s Tasha...Just my Tasha.” Clint’s voice and overall demeanor lacking its normal buoyancy. “I’ve never wanted someone to be dead so badly,” Clint said gravely finally looking over at the senior agent. “We’re gonna get him,” Clint said not a question in his voice. Clint was going to one way or another. With or without SHIELD. He didn’t kill. Never has. Never will, but that doesn’t mean he can’t seriously injure the people who put Natasha’s life in the balance. “I know we are Clint,” Coulson said gently a comforting hand being laid across his shoulder. “So agents are already on it. They aren’t going to get away.” Coulson said adamantly. Clint nodded and rose his coffee too his mouth and took another drink. Clint's gaze turning back to Natasha focusing in on her hands. It was alarming how at that moment they seemed so frail and weak, and yet Clint knew them best as deadly and strong...so strong like the rest of her. Clint’s gaze turned back to her face. If the room didn’t smell like a hospital and the only sound was the beeps of the machines and fewer attachments to her deathly still body Clint might have been able to convince himself that her eyes were closed because she was sleeping. But he wasn’t that fortunate...Neither of them was really that lucky. It felt like they were cursed and the cure could only be found in each other's hands and eyes.


	10. Aunty Peggy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Swearing, mentions of alcoholism and drug abuse, mentions of verbal abuse and Major character death.

Tony’s best moment in life? Does he even have one? Howard’s parenting was a subaverage if anything when not considering neglect or verbal abuse. Obie just used him. He and Pepper had highs and lows the highs never being the best. Rhodey had been a high point in his life pretty consistently. Like that time when they were in MIT and got drunk on the roof and ate far too much junk food. But that couldn’t be his best memory, could it? One could imagine his surprise when he woke up in Aunt Peggy's house. He hadn’t thought about this day in years. Everything was the same, but it was different. There was more Steve? That can’t be right, could it? No. He had been sober….huh. Slowly Tony wandered further into the sitting room. He had always been one of his favorite places and a source of great emotional comfort. Taking a deep breath Tony could smell the floral notes of Earl Grey tea. It was Peggy’s favorite. Personally Tony hated the taste of it, but he loved the smell of it. On occasion, he had seen Steve just making a mug of it but he never drank it. Funny Tony forgot how close and dear Peggy was to him. Slowly Tony moved through the living room wondering if maybe this was an elaborate dream or if maybe he was in a coma? Pushing those thoughts aside Tony entered the kitchen. It was the same white Tiles and appliances. The walls the same mellow dusty shade of pink. Not hyper-feminine or anything like that, just Peggy. If that was any kind of explanation Tony didn’t care. The tea was already on the table. Three settings. Who else was home? That thought was all but forgotten the second he was pulled into a tight hug. On instinct, Tony looped his arms around Peggy's waste and tilted his head so his ear was pressed over her heartbeat. Strong and steady. He stood in stunned silence for a moment just soaking in the affection. He had no idea how terribly he needed to be held until then. “I’m proud of you Anthony. You’ve led quite the remarkable life.” Soothed Peggy her accent polite and gentle as ever, She was proud of him? What could he have done to make her proud? He destroyed the Avengers...his family, brought on the destruction of the universe. Created a murder bot and slept with women more than he loved them. A sob shook his shoulders and his arms tightened weakly around her. “Don't be stupid.” He choked out tucking his face into the woman's blouse. Peggy shushed him softly not saying anything just held him there allowing Tony to sob into her, and finally get years of pain and fear off of his chest. When the sobs began to subside she spoke. “You’ve done good. Even if you can’t see that yourself.” Peggy said gently and pulled back a small distance to dry his eyes. “We all have done things that keep us up at night, but those things have allowed us to do our greatest goods.” She consoled before pulling him back in. Tony stayed quiet and just listened to the drumming of her heart allowing it to lull him into a relaxed state. Slowly he nodded. “But..” Tony started but was cut off by a stern look from the woman. He nodded and shut his eyes. 

This didn’t seem right. Peggy had died, and yet there she was holding him telling Tony that she was proud of him despite everything. Slowly Tony took a deep breath. That was new...No no couldn’t be it. It was a memory from the day he went to Aunty Peggy after Howard ripped him apart for not being what he wanted. Tony couldn’t remember what it was his father wanted. Only that it wasn’t Tony. 

When Tony reopened his eyes he was laying in a snowbank whiskey and blood heavy on his tongue staring up at various barren trees and the largest moon he had seen. Well until Thanos threw one at him, but that was different somehow. He couldn’t feel his toes for the cold but his heart was pounding aggressively against his probably broke ribs. Surprisingly Tony knew exactly what this was. Surprising because of most things in the weeks following his parent's deaths...Well, murders were blocked out by insane amounts of alcohol and drugs. Tony had snapped and shouted terrible things at Jarvis before he left the house for he didn't know where other than away. The only flaw being that Tony was in no state to drive do to his lack of sobriety. Tony rolled his car and ended up flaking out and in pain across a snow bank. “What the bloody hell were you thinking!” Came the sharp accent of his Aunt. Tony physically flinched figuring she was just going to leave him like everyone else. “You scared the life out of me Tony. We just lost your parents and I’ll be damned if I lose you too.” She said ut it was different...more genuine and fearful. Tony blinked back his rapidly building tears. “I’m sorry... I. I don’t know I was being stupid.” He mumbled and squeezed his eyes shut tightly. “You’re not stupid Tony. You feel too much. It’s normal. We’ve got you.” She soothed and gently touched his cheek. Before Tony could ask who we were he was being hoisted into a pair of overly familiar arms, and his eyes flew open. “Steve?” Tony blurted out in shock. “What...What Are you doing here?” What was Steve doing in this memory he hadn’t meant the man yet and he was supposed to be frozen...Yet he was carrying Tony out of the cold. “We came to get you. You don’t deserve to be alone at a time like this.” He said gently. “A time like this? I’m..I’m fine...Just feel-” He was cut off by Peggy shaking her head her hair bouncing with the movement. “It’s time to go.” She said gently. “You did so well Tony, but it’s time to rest now...Only good memories no more hurt.” She soothed and only then did it dawn on Tony. He had died...and his heaven wasn’t a singular memory it was Peggy...She was his best memories.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So basically I’m rolling with the idea that our personal heavens are made up of our singular best memory as shown in the Supernatural TV series. But with Tony I thought I would tweak it slightly so that Peggy was his best memories and there she was what composed his heaven,


	11. Nothing. No Where to Hide Now

People left Clint, It didn’t matter if he loved them or not. They always left. Typically because they were dead. Yes, he was well aware that everyone dies one way or another, but the people Clint found himself in love with always seemed to get taken away by some ass hole on a power trip. 

Clint’s bad luck started with his parents...Although he wasn’t sure if he ever really loved them. His old man was a mean drunk and his Ma just didn’t seem to care about him and Barney. Then Barney left him and came back only to get killed partly because of Clint. Only to come back again and turn in to the best big brother when he was out of Clint's life. Or at least that’s how Nat so kindly put it. And yet there they were sort of coexisting. But Clint was sure it was all an act. After Barney there was Bobbie. Clint was sure he loved her to the point where he married her despite being against marriage. But it was short lived. First Bobbie faked her death and then there was that tricky little thing about her killing that man. She was gone again but that was Clint’s choice...though it still hurt like hell.

Slowly Clint took a breath in through his nose for the count of eight before blowing out through his mouth for the count of ten fingers drumming against his thighs. He should fix his hair Clint figured. May as well do it all. Dipping his hands under the flow of the tap to wet them first Clint then ran them through he hair and pushed around at the front until it was less messy and well sorta looking formal. He hated gel. Even if this was the most important day of the rest of his life. Turning the tap off Clint store at his reflection. He looked ready, but was he? Did he want this right? Yes, don’t be stupid. Tasha's told you she’s sure a million times that he hadn’t misjudged. But that did little to deflate the ever-growing bubble of fear in his stomach. Clint had lost so many people in his life he didn’t want to lose anyone else. Especially Bucky. He was too important. Maybe Clint lucked out this time? Bucky had ‘died’ and come back twice already. Maybe he wouldn’t get taken or leave Clint like all the others. Clint nodded his head to his reflection. Nothing was changing this. Nothing. No childish fear of being alone, no depression or lack of sleep was going to change this. Nothing. Clint stopped in the doorway of the bathroom caught off guard by the wide grins spread over Tasha and Barney’s faces. “What? You two look like you’re up to no good...which is scary.” There was a moments pause that made Clint feel squirmy and hot across the nape of his neck. “You look good Clint...I’m happy for you….” Tasha said genuine and gentile. “We’re all proud of you. Red and I may not agree on much...er well anything really. But this.” Barney gestured vaguely to the empty air in front of him. “This you deserve more than you know.” He said a sparkle in his eyes Clint hadn’t seen since there time in the circus... Swallowing as Cint shifted on the spot feeling almost like a scolded child unsure of how to take the praise. “UH, thanks…Guys.” He said slowly blue eyes darting to the wall clock just to the left of the couch. “But we should get going...or we’re gonna be late and I don’t wanna be a fuck up...at least not today,” Clint said nervously and jammed his hands into his pockets. Clint’s palms were becoming increasingly wet with sweat by the second. “There’s nothing to fuck up Clint” Natasha attempted to assure even if it was a losing battle, Clint only nodded and started to walk towards the door hot on Barney’s heels. 

Clint began to count his intake of air and every exhale all the way down the hall and up to his position. This was it. Clint was wearing more clothes than he really ever did and yet he felt like he was naked. There was nowhere to hide. Nothing left to do but marry Bucky. Easy enough. Repeat after the priest, Say I do and kiss. Easy peasy lemon squeezy.


	12. The Breakfast Blues

Pietro liked the mornings where the sun hung low in the sky painting the world in a cool coral glow when the dew coated the ground filling the air with a cool earth moist smell that burnt your lungs if you breathed too heavily. IN the most peaceful sense of the term possible. Pietro loved these mornings. The only hitch in his otherwise favorite time of the day was a severe case of the breakfast blues. When you’re so hungry you either don’t feel hungry because your body is still fasting or you feel like you’re sick. Pietro hated both. He liked breakfast food just fine...well all food. Pietro wasn’t particularly picky especially since coming to America. He ran into troubles with the options. There were too many to count. Did he want a Danish? If so sweet or Savory? What flavor? Warm or as is? Did he want cereal Or toast? What kind of bread? How many slices? What did he want on it? And so forth the list could go on forever. It was a conundrum that Pietro found himself faced with every morning. He often liked to imagine that this must be how women feel when they’re trying to find something to wear. 

 

Pietro was drawn from his thoughts when his stomach growled embarrassingly loud in the empty kitchen. Yes, maybe he would just have toast and peanut butter today with some fruit. It had been a while since he last had that. Maybe even a yogurt. If there were any of the Banana flavored one’s left. Chances of that were likely quite high as himself and Thor were the only ones who actually ate the banana flavor and last time Pietro checked Thor was off world.


	13. Tasha

The world fell out from under Clint’s feet and his stomach did a double backflip front roll up his esophagus. He was falling…or rather plummeting. Yeah, this was bad. Probably way worse than it looked. Yeah way worse. Something defiantly broke…well several somethings. Clint groaned shutting his eyes tightly trying to will the ringing to stop and the white flashes to go away. Even if it was a fat chance in hell. Grimacing Clint groped around for his bow and quiver or even an arrow. Nope, not gonna happen just yet. Something in his brain said before the pain knocked him out. 

 

Natasha rounded the corner just as a body was sent flying from its perch. “Blyad’ Clint” She cursed heart rate skyrocketing with worry for the other man. Not much could break Natasha’s concentration or cause her heart rate to spike like that when she was working. But watching the man she loved falling to what was potentially a very painful and slow death never ceased to do just that. Natasha fought a losing battle internally as she began to run towards the ally forcing the troubling thoughts from her mind.

Budapest would have been a beautiful city three days ago. If they hadn’t been separated. If the mission had gone so bad so quickly. Surely this was some kind of test. Fury had to know the intel was bad…Didn’t he? The man must have been using this as some kind of exercise to test her loyalty to SHIELD…If she was. Natasha wasn’t sure her self. She was loyal to Clint. Even if he wasn’t hers. “Moy yastreb” The words slip past her lips barely as a whisper. Slowly she sunk to her knees beside Clint’s body. Fingers trembling as he reached forward to check for a sign of life…Yes, he was alive good. “Barton’s down…We need extraction as soon as possible. He’s in bad shape.” Natasha spoke firmly into the com line as she took Clint’s outstretched hand in hers. Tracing the scars with the pad of her thumb. “It’ll be okay Moy yastreb.” She promised before sinking her top teeth into her lip to keep the tears at bay. 

“Tasha.”


End file.
